Memory Box
by contrusive
Summary: The Puffs are juniors in high school now, and it seems unlikely that things might change. Crime is low and their popularity is skyrocketing, so what could happen in just a few days? Try: everything. The Ruffs have resurfaced and one thing is definite: something happened to their memories. What might happen to the girls and their counterparts during their last years of high school?


**Memory Box** / contrusive

Disclaimer: I do not own the Powerpuff Girls, all things affiliated to the Powerpuff Girls belongs to Craig McCracken.

* * *

Bright, warm rays of sunlight shone through the large windows of the girls' room. First day of school? No. Last? Nope. It was just five weeks into the first semester, maybe the most unsuspecting time of the year. Our Powerpuff girls were already juniors in high school, and it seemed like they'd matured into fine young girls while also keeping their most defining traits- negative and positive.

Bubbles was the first to rise, retreating quickly to the bathroom to freshen up and put on her makeup. She hopped into the shower to wake herself up, puppy-like yips of shock from the coldness of the water being heard all the way from downstairs. Her sisters rose shortly after her, brushing their teeth together while Bubbles applied a light amount of foundation and powder. Buttercup, not wanting to waste time, struggled to put her jeans on while also still brushing her teeth. Blossom finished washing and began to braid her hair while she searched her side of the closet for something to wear. This morning 'commotion,' as the Professor liked to call it, was part of their daily routine. Getting ready without one sister felt alien, so it was best to stick together.

The blonde sister was already finished cooking the last omelet by the time Buttercup had put on her shoes and hopped downstairs with one foot. She later realized she could have tied them faster while flying downstairs, but shrugged it off.

"Buttercup, you're making breakfast tomorrow." Blossom instructed, the green-eyed sister barely stuffing the first piece of her omelet in her mouth. She looked at her pink-eyed sister, who was content and composed.

"I ffink yer making uff cook becauf you can't." She commented as she chewed her food, Bubbles struggling to put a piece of her own in her mouth.

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"You're making us cook because you can't, right?" Buttercup re-stated as she finished swallowing the piece she so happily chewed. Professor looked up from his newspaper at this comment, raising an eyebrow. He only wanted to see where this was going. Blossom's composure broke only slightly.

"N-no, it's because I like doing the dishes. Finish your food, we have to go soon." She side-glanced at Buttercup and continued to eat. Both the Professor and Buttercup laughed at her sister's reaction while Bubbles remained neutral.

"Alright, _mom_."

* * *

"Have you seen this month's cover of Go Style yet?"

"Yeah, I can't believe those Puffballs scored the winning spot instead of me," The curly-haired blue blood snatched the issue from her friend and glared at the three girls on the front page. They were the most talented and well-known people in all of Townsville bar none (except for maybe, well, the mayor); it was almost impossible to not envy them. "Gosh, here they come."

Speak of the devil, three Powerpuffs touched down on the campus of their high school, clad in their classic pink, blue, and green colors. Blossom, in the middle, had come dressed in her usual blazer, blouse, high-waisted shorts, and flamingo pink ballet flats; her sunset orange hair was braided to the side, tied together by a pink ribbon. Bubbles, on her right, wore a white skater skirt and a plain white button-up with a peter pan collar. Her full-white outfit was broken by a thin baby blue belt that rested on her hips and black strappy sandals; her blonde locks tied down loosely by blue baubles. Buttercup had decided to come in a plain white T-shirt and black skinny jeans, a green bangle hanging on her left hand and her favorite pair of green converse. Her raven black bangs were pinned back by a simple pastel green hair clip, lent to her by Bubbles. Together, they were an image of the perfect balance of ruggedness and finesse.

Unfortunately, this picture of perfection had to separate in order to make it to their first classes on time. They each had their own independent friend groups aside from each other, as well. Blossom sped to the library to meet her friends, Bubbles wandering away toward the dance room, and Buttercup staying put next to the gate. The green Puff always saw everyone who came to and went from the school's main gate while waiting for Mike to arrive, but today she spotted a boy hanging around off-campus, just outside the gate. It really wasn't in her usual self to care, but her interest was piqued because he looked so familiar. At the same time, she didn't want to talk to him because his breath was clouded by cigarette smoke. By the time she had decided she _did_ want to go talk to him, Mike had already arrived to walk her to her first class.

"What're ya staring at? We gotta get to chem." He urged, following her glance.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just let me copy your graph on the lab report." She pulled her eyes away from the boy and playfully shouldered the boy, but her curiosity never wavered.

* * *

Blossom quietly entered the library and walked to the tables in the back where her friends usually settled. Today, she was one of the earlier ones to arrive. All she could do for the next few minutes was organize her materials and study for the test next period. As soon as she sat down, the door opened and closed, drawing the wind in toward the back. A boy sat at a few tables away from her, facing backward. She stole a few glances at his back.

 _Broad shoulders, bad posture. Red hair?_ She observed, subconsciously fingering with her own red hair. His hair seemed to be tied into a ponytail that peeked out from under the cap that faced backward on his head. _Who wears their hat like that anymore?_

He felt her gaze boring into the back of his head and turned around, but by the time he'd done so, she had quickly picked up a pencil and pretended to write something down in her notebook.

 _New kid. I should approach him if he's in any of my classes._

* * *

The last Puff, Bubbles, was alone in the dance room when she had encountered a mystery of her own. She had taken off her shoes and begun freely dancing to a song that had been playing in her head for the past few days. She watched herself dance in the two-way mirror that allowed those outside to watch, but her eyes flickered toward a silhouette that watched her like a ghost. She stopped, straightened herself out, and slowly walked toward the door.

"He...Hello...?" Her voice shook. "I-Is anyone there?"

Her hand grasped the frame of the door when she peeked outside, her big blue eyes scanning for any source of life that might have been watching her. She froze. A few moments later, she strapped her sandals back on, grabbed her things, and hurried outside to get to her first class.

 _Ghosts aren't real, ghosts aren't real, ghosts aren't real..._ At least she would have the comforting presence of her biology teacher to calm her down.

In twenty minutes or so, the final bell had rung and most students were sitting in their seats, Bubbles still shaken by the previous occurrence. A boy had entered the room moments before and plopped himself in the seat behind her. The girl was much too preoccupied by the event in the dance room to see (or hear, for that matter) her AP bio teacher settle the new student into the class. The teacher hadn't even introduced him to the class because there was no need, Bubbles had only found out when he tapped her on the shoulder to ask her for a piece of paper.

"Um, yeah, sure," She snapped open the three-ring binder, whipped out two (one for him, one for her), and handed it to him without taking a glance at him. "Here."

"Thank you, um..." He took the sheet between his fingers. "What's your name?"

Her ears perked up at this question. "You don't know me?" She turned around to look at his face and immediately recognized his tousled blonde hair and dark blue eyes. She froze for the second time that day when she realized that her question made her sound arrogant. "U-uh, no, I-I meant-"

He laughed, her eyes detecting a genuine smile. "I'm just kidding, Bubbles. Thanks for the paper." He looked back down to write his name on the sheet of lined paper and she slowly shifted her body back around to face forward.

Bubbles walked out of class that day with a concept she couldn't wrap her head around. _Had he forgotten that they were the worst of enemies?_


End file.
